particularly as, from the closeness of the air, I might have been rather unpleasantly situated.” This same officer saw another such structure on the plain of Pagahm, among the ruins; but finding that it was used as a robber’s cavern, he did not explore it. From what he could see, it was larger, and in better repair. The priests of Burmah[121] are named Pongyees, meaning “great example,” or “great glory.” The Pali name, “Rahan,” or “holy man,” once so much in use among them, is now almost obsolete. The office is not hereditary, for the Burmans are unshackled by castes; and, indeed, a priest may become a layman again, though after re-entering society he may not again assume the sacerdotal position. Thus the convents of Burmah serve as a place where an education superior to that usually obtained in the schools may be received, and the young man, not being bound by any vow, may return to the active scenes of life, and take military or political rank. If the youth find the peaceful pursuits of the convent more to his taste, he can remain, and become a priest. The system of the priesthood is not badly managed. The Burmans have no church-rates, and pluralism, not being worth anything, is, of course, unknown. The priests have no political influence, and are only consulted on ecclesiastical and literary matters; they live on the charity of their parishioners, and, on the whole, they do not appear to be badly off. The ritual, for which I must refer the reader to my frequently quoted authority Sangermano,[122] is very strict in regard to priests; that, however, is of no consequence, for in the foul and corrupted Burmese empire all these institutions have fallen into disrepute. The priests live as those of the convents of the middle ages did; and the similarity between the Roman Catholic and Buddhist ceremonies, so amply proved by MM. Huc and Gabet,[123] extends equally to the men. Their dress is of a yellow colour, and is formed by two cloths, which are so wrapped around them as to completely envelop them from the shoulders to the heels. Their heads are shaved, and to shade the bare poll from the burning sun, they carry a talipot or palmyra-leaf in their hands. In M. Dubois de Jancigny’s Indo-Chine, and in Malcom, there are plates of the dress, which convey a very tolerable idea of the look of a priest out walking.